George and Lola

George and Lola enjoy a chewy bone together after mauling each other (and Dom) over whether or not Lola should be allowed to sniff around and explore new territory or be forced to play against her will. George thought the latter. He thought wrong. Lola won. Note George's bewildered expression. 

George realises that Lola might love him if she notices him with chewy bone. He decides to bury it anyway. He will return with it in a week or so, soggy and muddy and plonk it on the previously cream carpet.

Lola goes to town on her chewy bone. If George at any point existed, he no longer does.

They have spied the chicken. They cannot have the chicken however, as they are in jail.

"Come on Lola, pleading eyes! And whimper. We must whimper for one whole hour and then we will have the chicken. All the chicken."

George wants Lola to love him back. Lola wants the sofa to herself.

George brings home a slimy friend

The friend was thankfully unharmed (as was George). In fact the only one who seemed to suffer through the ordeal was me as I chased a toad around my dining room with a glass bowl! George (locked in the hallway with shoes aplenty) was his usual dazed and confused self. The vet assured me that the wailing that ensued was simply George upset about losing yet another friend and not a result of toxic toad slime. He searched the garden for about an hour before trotting back in to tell me off and chew a cardigan. Throughout the evening he would stop and grumble in my general direction every 20 minutes or so. I gave him a broad bean and he forgave me. He's easily pleased.

Aw Muuuum!

"Just let me nap! Enough with the squeezing."

George eats a sock

He was quite sleepy when this opportunity was seized and so we managed to snatch it back with ease and hide it on the bookshelf. This was almost an event. Almost.

The bottom lip

If you look at George from the right angle (in the right light, at the right time of day, under the full moon) you can see his bottom lip. I love looking at him with a bottom lip. He looks like a little old man.

A trip to Victoria Park

This weekend we took George on an 8 mile round trip to Victoria Park in the centre of Leamington. On the way back his paws gave up for a moment and he had himself a wee lie down. Dom carried him for about 6 minutes. This is George's first October and first time in the autumn leaves. Much fun :)

Another one bites the dust

After two months of the bear, it has finally gone. This is the longest lasting toy George has ever had. It was a furry rag for about 6 weeks but George became bored and simultaneously run out of things to bury. The inevitable happened. So long bear...

Part of me is a little disappointed in myself for never taking a picture of George wearing bear's jumper. He was just so traumatised by the experience (it was a size too small so he couldn't really walk properly) and when I took him up to show Dom he seemed both disappointed and baffled by me in equal measure. I felt a bit like the 6 year old who washes the walls with ketchup. So I decided against asking George to pose. Curses!